


50FoC: A Christmas Story (Krampus & Frank Sinatra)

by Cysteine



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 50 Flavors of Creampuff, 50 FoC, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cysteine/pseuds/Cysteine
Summary: It's Christmas and Carmilla's household is having Sadistic Cupcake and her submissive over for dinner, and MacKenzie doesn't believe that Carm was a vampire. So she tells them the story about how she first met Frank Sinatra back in 1950, and kinda ran into Krampus.A/N: Laura's POV except for the flashbacks, which are in Carmilla's. This took so long because I had to start writing down WWII details that will be explored further in "50FoC:Black". And yes, historical figures are REAL PEOPLE, as are the tunnels under New York.





	50FoC: A Christmas Story (Krampus & Frank Sinatra)

JP and I were hanging decorations on the tree when the doorbell rang, making him hobble with his cane to go let them in. As soon as the door opened, I heard Sadistic Cupcake squeal in delight.

“Holy crap, y’all went all out here! Um, JP, this is my submissive MacKenzie, back from her deployment.” 

I craned my neck, slowly getting up off of the floor to waddle my super-pregnant ass to meet Sadistic’s partner. It was month number eight with twins, and I flat-out refused to be bedridden for the final trimester.

“Oh wow, you’re about to pop, Laura.” Sadistic marveled, her wide hazel eyes contrasting her raven hair, almost hypnotizing me.

“...Laura?” JP’s hand waved in front of my face, making me blink rapidly and return to reality. Sadistic blushed slightly as MacKenzie had her hand outstretched in greeting to me.

“Um, hi MacKenzie, I’m Laura.” As I took her in, I realized that she was only an inch taller than me, yet every inch of the redhead’s body seemed toned if not covered in freckles. Her hair was curly and wild, with minimal eyeliner around deep blue eyes.

We shook hands as she looked over the place, impressed. “So where’s Ms. Karnstein?”

JP spoke up in reply. “Mistress and Tara are out doing some last-minute gift shopping. May I take your coats?”

As they removed their coats, Sadistic’s eyes were back on me. “Didn’t you say you were getting a new person for the house?”

“Yeah, Elliot’s integrated seamlessly into our lives, taking over the housekeeping duties and cooking for our family.” I replied proudly.

“Good to hear,” she replied, avoiding bringing up the loss of Perry and LaFontaine, “...and what’s going on between you and Jordan?”

I bit my lip nervously, remembering the sushi night sexcapades. “It was, uh… fun.” I admit, remembering the kiss I shared with Sadistic was strangely more intense than anything I had done with Jordan.

“Really?” She asks, approaching me with what could only be seen as a sexy predatory gleam in her eye, “Somehow I can’t see you two subbies figuring out who got to be on top.” 

She leaned in, lips tracing the shell of my ear and making my knees buckle.

“And I recall exactly how wet you were after kissing me in the dungeon.” I felt more than heard myself moan at the sense of her warm breath caressing the edge of my ear, and I wondered if this was some sort of preternatural trick. 

I closed my eyes, wanting to lean into her, expecting teeth in my neck or something. 

“Using your Domme skills isn’t fair, Sadistic.” I moaned more than said out loud.

Sadistic chuckled warmly, sending a shudder through me as I came back to my senses for the second time in just minutes.

MacKenzie smirked at me playfully. “You okay there?”

I nodded, embarrassed. “Yeah, just… Sadistic is really good at finding my buttons…”

The redhead grinned at that. “Isn’t she? My Mistress told me about the scene and the kiss. I gotta admit I’m a little jealous.”

“Um… sorry?” I apologize, uncertain if I broke any boundaries.

“No, not like that; I just need to meet your Mistress and see if they would team up and play with me too. I’ve heard that she has some  _ amazing  _ seduction eyes.”

I laughed at that, relieved as the tension left the room. “Oh yeah, they are quite the pair together.”

JP was back, one eyebrow arched at me questioningly.

“Might I get you two a drink?” 

“Eggnog, if it’s not too much trouble.” Sadistic asked for the pair of them.

JP tasked me to get the cut crystal glasses as he signed to Elliot to get out the Nog and Cinnamon. The three of us made quick work of it, including two shots of rum that Sadistic Cupcake and MacKenzie could add if they wanted put on a serving tray.

Elliot brought out the drinks as JP served them, both women asking for the rum to be added to their drinks. Sadistic signed ‘thank you’ to Elliot and gave a respectful nod to them as I beamed in pride. 

At the front door was Tara and Carmilla, laden down with three bags of presents.

“Oh, our friends arrived already? And they have been offered refreshments? Good boys.” Carmilla crossed the room, every bit the vampish beauty in her skin-tight leather pants, New Rock Boots, and an ankle-length leather duster over a Halloween-themed ugly christmas sweater.

Tara was emulating her Fairy VampMother (her words) with black leggings and a dark Grumpy Cat hoodie.

“Aunt Carm, I’ll start wrapping presents in your office.” The girl offered as she pulled the bags out of her hands, leaving me breathless in front of my wife. The first tell-tale sign of crows feet at the corner of her eyes betrayed the fact that she was finally aging, something I found oddly comforting as it meant we’d get to grow old together.

“I’ve missed you, Cupcake.”

I chuckled softly at that. “You were gone for only a few hours, Carm.” I raised my chin as her lips met mine, her hands possessively wrapping around the small of my back, pulling me in.

I swayed as our lips parted, feeling glossy-eyed from the kiss.

“Still got it.” Carm whispered to herself, equally woozy.

“Always, Mistress.” I breathed, turning my head towards JP and kissed him as Carmilla pressed her own kiss to the top of his head. He blushed beet red at that, nodding to the pair of us before limping his way to follow Tara.

“See? I told you they were a poly triad.” Sadistic said with a smirk to her redhead.

MacKenzie’s jaw was still on the ground from the exchange. “Yeah, okay… I just didn’t believe there could be such powerful chemistry when a third of the relationship is ace…”

Carmilla unwrapped her hands from around me (causing a small whimper) as she extended her hand towards the submissive. “MacKenzie, I’m Carmilla Karnstein.”

As they shook hands, I could feel the indescribable sensation, almost a pull of power, between them. It wasn’t a vampire trick as Carmilla was now mortal - it was simply the force of her personality. 

MacKenzie forced a gasp of air in order to start breathing again. “Okay, wow. You two are cut from similar cloth.”

Carmilla bowed slightly at the compliment. “Except that I have perfected this ability for centuries while Sadistic here is just naturally gifted.”

“Centuries?” MacKenzie asked, disbelief etched in her face.

“Oh yeah,” Sadistic said flippantly, “Carmilla here is a centuries old badass vampire.”

Carm rolled her eyes while I jumped in to correct her. 

“Former Vampire. You  _ witnessed  _ her running about in her leopard form!”

Sadistic shook her head at that. “I know what I think I saw, but… come on, certain things are as real as Santa Claus.”

“Well, Saint Nicholas was a Greek Christian bishop back in the 4th century, handing out gifts to the poor and kept three daughters from a life of prostitution by giving them dowries. But  _ Father Christmas _ and the Santa Claus we know of today is a complete fabrication, partly to usurp the Pagan traditions behind Krampus and the Winter Solstice to order to solidify Christianity’s monotheism.”

“Thanks, ‘Hermione’.” Sadistic chuckled, “now are you going to recite  _ Hogwarts, A History _ to us?”

Carmilla smirked, running her tongue along her teeth as she mentally debated something.

“Alright, how about I tell you about Krampus? I mean, we are in Styria, where his exploits were first recorded.”

I wrinkled my nose, thinking back to my Preternatural History class and how we had to read the book  _ The Masked Face _ by John J. Honigmann. It was the most recent book admitted into the curriculum, as it was written by an anthropologist in 1977.

“Holy crap, Carmilla, are you saying Krampus is real?”

She nodded at that, signing to Elliot to get her an eggnog as she made herself comfortable.

“Yeah; I actually ran into him. So it’s 1950, I’m back in New York from the war, finding the mafia-run bars that catered to ‘family’ (the gay/lesbian community) and searching for a new girl to develop a relationship with to have a long-term blood donor.”

JP interrupted with a question. “What did you do for blood during the war?”

She smiled sadly. “After Barbara? Raided hospitals until I befriended Dr. Harold Gilles.”

Armitage nearly choked on his eggnog. “...you knew the father of plastic surgery?”

Carm gave a soft laugh at that. “Yeah, he was horrible with money… And I was actually Michael Dillion’s beard for awhile, so he could pass for male. Poor guy loved women but used to say  _ ’One must not lead a girl on if one could not give her children.’ _ I obviously didn’t want children, and he was fine with it.

“So to explain Krampus, I have to explain how I first met Frank Sinatra. I’ve heard his records, seen all sorts of women want him and men wanting to be him during the war… but in 1950, his life was pretty bleak.

“Frank lost  his publicist George Evans to a heart attack in January, who seemed to have the magical ability to hold back the news that he had been two-timing his wife Nancy with this slip of a woman called Ava Gardner, who was a nobody back then  _ except  _ for her role as Kitty Collins in that Noir film  _ The Killers  _ back in ‘46. Ugh, if only I could have sunk my fangs in her…” Carmilla bit her lip wistfully at that.

“Carm…” I dead-panned, shaking my head at her. Elliot returned with the drink, and he was rewarded with a thank you and a smile so bright that it that could power a small town for a week.

“...so Nancy divorced Frank and took him to the cleaners... and since he was making 93 big ones a week just after the war ended, the lawyers were sharks that smelled blood in the water.”

“Big ones?” MacKenzie asked, curiosity getting to her.

“Thousand.” Carmilla replied with a shrug.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. So as you can imagine, Frank went from being on top of the world, the ‘ Swoonatra’ himself, to losing his Sinatra-fanatic fan-base of ‘Sinatratics’  and having to go beg Columbia Records to borrow two hundred thousand to pay off the IRS for back taxes… he was in a really bad place.

“So having hit rock bottom, he got a job from Jack to sing at the Copa Club to make a little scratch as he needed to do more than just mope all day.

“Who’s Jack?” I asked, knowing little about her time in New York.

“Jack Entratter, a mafia guy I first met back in the 30’s who managed the Stork Club. I was with Edith back then, and together we turned a  _ lot  _ of heads. Jack hired us on the spot for our looks as we’d draw in customers. It was a decent gig for a few years.”

“And Edith was…?” I was pretty sure but wanted to know for certain.

“Submissive number 10. She moonlit as a prostitute but accidentally got pregnant and then found religion. Certain things went from ‘unhealthy for the baby’ to ‘immoral’. Edith decided that I couldn’t have her blood anymore, so I began doing favors for the mafia when the johns went a little too hard on their girls.”

Sadistic cut my Mistress off. “Whoa, you were a mafia hitman?”

Carmilla shrugged. “I was just protecting the working girls. Edith saw me as a monster after that and went to the cops about it,  _ despite  _ the fact that I had saved her bacon from a John before. So, Jack hooked me up with new ID and I went to Boston as Claudia Karnstein until Pearl Harbor when I joined the war effort.”

“That explains the WAC uniform…” Elliot said out loud, surprising MacKenzie and Sadistic. He rolled his eyes at their expressions. “I’m deaf, not mute.”

The pair of them muttered apologies while I signed to him ‘I’m sorry’. He nodded his understanding and immediately let it go, a quality that I actually envied him for.

Carmilla continued her story, unphased. “So… I know a little bit about losing everything and having to start over. Problem with ‘rock bottom’ is, there’s always more bottom coming at you. Frank lost his voice in April of 1950 and had to cancel almost a week of shows; he wasn’t certain if he’d ever get it back.”

“I run into with Jack, who recognizes me and asks if I need a job. I was hesitant before he said it wasn’t to kill someone, but to go check in on a friend of his. That’s how I meet Frank Sinatra; he’s hit rock bottom and had his head in the oven.”

_ Holy shit, Frank Sinatra attempted suicide? _

“So what did you do?” I asked, completely enthralled at this point.

“Ever see  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ ? George Bailey at the bridge, his guardian angel Clarence trying to earn his wings… like that, but I’m a vampire that shows him how much  _ worse  _ life can get. You know, count your blessings and all.”

MacKenzie looked to Sadistic Cupcake and myself, smiling nervously. “Okay, ‘vampire’? Yeah… no. You’re a good storyteller, but come on.”

Carmilla flashed a predatory smile at her. “Elliot here didn’t believe it either at first… until I handed him my contacts.” She pulled out a contact lens case from her purse, opening it up before removing the brown tinted lenses and securing them in the screw-top carrier and stowed them away.

When she looked back up at MacKenzie, the redhead stood up in shock, placing herself between my Mistress and hers.

“What the fuck?!” She gasped, human eyes locked onto the amber leopard eyes before her.

“Your Mistress saw me in feline form before. What color were my eyes then?”

Sadistic had a hand on her redhead’s shoulder, gently calming her while nudging her aside. “They were…” she gulped down her fear, “...just like that. But vampires aren’t-”

“They aren’t real?” Tara asks, returning with a plate of cookies and milk and sits beside me, swallowing the cookie in her mouth. “My Fairy VampMother is real, and was a vampire. You can see the marks on JP and Laura’s necks.”

Carmilla blushed and apologized as everyone’s attention went to my neck, where light scarring could still be seen from the few times she bit into me to feed. 

“I, uh, don’t bite for blood anymore so don’t worry.” Carm said, almost apologetically.

“Wasn’t worried, actually.” MacKenzie replied, her voice betraying her fear.

“Good. And uh, it goes without saying that this is to stay between us. Sadistic here already vouched for you, but I just wanted to confirm-” Carm rambled nervously.

“Yeah, I’m not telling anyone. Wouldn’t believe me anyways.” MacKenzie replied, calming down and taking her place next to Sadistic Cupcake.

“Back to the story, Aunt Carmilla!” Tara chided, gesturing towards her with a cookie. “She gets distracted.”

“So there I was, pulling Frank’s head out of the oven, knowing that the stereotypical ‘you’ve got everything to live for’ talk wasn’t going to work. Post-war suicide was pretty common for the war vets, but Frank never served. He also didn’t have much going for him.

“I pulled my Insight on him; realized he needed purpose and to see that there were bigger things out there. So that’s exactly what I did.” 

* * *

“Frank? Whoa, trying to bake yourself into a cake?” I had kicked the door open at the smell of gas, using vampire speed to pull him out of the oven and open a few windows.

Frank’s head was out of the oven as he coughed, looking ashamed at getting caught. “Um, I was trying to light the pilot light-”

“Sure you were. Pilot light’s up top. Wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“Sorry, I don’t know you miss-” His voice was raspy and shot, useless for his singing career.

“Claudia Karnstein. Jack sent me.” 

He looked me over, appraising me with a sad smile. “Um, I can’t afford a girl like you right-”

“Uh, that’s not why I’m here. Guys aren’t my type anyways. I’m here to check in on you; heard you lost your voice.”

“Yeah I did. You can go now.” His eyes held that thousand-yard stare that was common for the war veterans. He wasn’t going to stop until he succeeded at killing himself.

“Can’t do that, Frank. You’re a threat to yourself right now.”

“And you’re here to tell me life’s an amazing gift from God that I have to suffer though?”

“No, life sucks and then you die. But that’s when it gets even worse.”

“No offense, but you think I’m gonna take religious advice from slacks like you?”

“I’ve made more women cry out to god than you have.” 

It was like a punch in the gut for him. “Huh. Alright, how does telling me that things get worse is supposed to help me out here?”

* * *

 

“Slacks?” I asked, not knowing the term.

“Slang for lesbian. Back then, we knew each other because we’d be so bold as to wear men’s clothing at our bars. Then the war came and it was an issue of safety and necessity.” Carm replied, absent-mindedly sweeping her silky raven hair behind her ear. 

“It’s that nuance of detail that convinced me that she’s not just making it up.” JP added, making Carmilla shake her head in playful resignation. 

“Now, if I may continue…”

* * *

“Well, Frank, because it’s honest; something I think you’ll respect after having years of people telling you what they  _ think  _ you want to hear instead. And, just maybe, you’ll decide to use your limited time on this world to make it better.”

“Are you some sort of philosopher?” Frank asked, pouring two fingers of Jack Daniels into a glass with precisely four ice cubes in it and added a splash of water before taking a sip.

“I may have read Thomas Paine once or twice. Finish your drink, and I’ll show you the things in New York that go bump in the night.”

Frank downed his drink in one gulp. 

“Well, I got nothing better to do, so why not?” 

We left his place and took a taxi to lower Manhattan, something that apparently amused Frank.

“So you’re telling me that the spooks and goblins live under the Brooklyn Bridge or something?”

I smiled at his disbelief. “Something like that.”

The taxi driver dropped us off at Old Slip at South Street; the smell of the east river wafting towards us as wind blew in from the east.

“Wow, treating me to a view of Brooklyn and the smell of the East River. You sure do know how to impress a native New Yorker.”

Rolling my eyes, I kept going forward and swung a leg over the metal railing, nodding my head as an invitation to join me.

“Come on, Frank, we’re going into the tunnels under the old Fourth Ward.”

“We’re going to explore the old bootlegger tunnels for fun? You know it’s probably infested with rats…” Sinatra seemed anxious but decided to follow me regardless.

“Actually, it’s infested with gnomes. They eat the rats, and they are marginally easier to deal with.” I replied, looking around and noticing that nobody else could see me, and jumped down the last twelve feet to the ground, rolling to reduce the impact. 

“How did you make that jump?!”

“Climb down Frank. Tide is starting to come in.”

While the human lumbered his way down, I gave two sharp whistles just outside of the Human hearing range.

“The tides coming in and we're heading into the tunnel?”

“I swear it's safe Frank; these were made back in the 18th century to Shanghai sailors and impress them into work.”

A quick burst of wings flapped by my ear as a four inch pixy alighted upon my right shoulder, snickering at the sight above us. 

“Who's the lunker, Carm- a human?’

Before the pixy blew my cover, I explained the situation sub-vocally, so that only he would be able to hear. 

Frank jumped the final three feet to the ground and turned to face us. 

“Claudia, what the heck is that?!” Frank's eyes were wide in astonishment as he took the pixie in. 

“I'm Jix; we pixies protect the tunnels between central park and the East river.” His face sneered. “Fairies claim the west side all the way to the Hudson.”

Jix was small yet toned, an athletic specimen that would out class tinkerbell any day of the week. His shady blonde hair, pointy ears, and bright green eyes were clearly inhuman, as were his handmade clothes that followed function as there were slits for his dragonfly-like wings. 

“This can't be real…”

“It definitely is, human. Just because you never saw us doesn't mean we don't exist.” 

Frank’s eyes were wide in shock. “Do unicorns and elves exist too?”

“Unicorns, yes. Elves? Not in the way you probably imagine-” 

Jix let Frank gawk at him as he interrupted. “Claudia, glad you're here. The dryads in central park over heard that we got poachers looking for jackalope antlers.” 

“Antlers now? Last time it was powdered hodag horn.” 

Jix shook his head in agreement. “Ugh… Humans…”

Sinatra’s hand was passing under Jix, looking for an air current or something. “As a human, I think I'm offended by that… if I knew what those things were.” 

“Jackalope antlers go into magic wands once they fall off, and powdered hodag horn makes you stay up for a week straight and immune to alcohol. Kinda like the amphetamine ‘go pills’ that the pilots used to take for bombing runs.” 

“Why would anyone want to do that?” 

Jix scoffed at that. “You lunkers will do anything for that money stuff. Pieces of paper with dead people on them. Better to live off the land, tend a garden and make a big family so they can move on and do the same.” 

“Easy to say when you're only four inches tall and humanity doesn't think you exist.” I turned to to Frank. “By the way, you can't tell  _ anyone  _ about this.” 

“I doubt anyone would believe me... an entirely hidden world of…  _ fantastic creatures _ that live among us…”

“Hey, that voice… sing  _ ‘like a leaf that’s been caught in the tide’ _ ...” Jix asks, the trail of dust brightening slightly.

Frank smiles and snaps his fingers to start the beat, amused that the pixie knows his music.

__ “The same old tingle that I feel… inside   
When that elevator starts its ride..   
Down and down I go, round and round I go…   
Like a leaf that's… caught in the tide…”

Jix flies up into the air excitedly, his dust trail turning bright lilac as we joined in on the next verse.

__ “I should stay away but what can I do   
I hear your name, and I'm aflame   
Aflame with   
Such a burning desire   
That only your kiss can put out the-”

Shrieks echoed from inside the tunnels, putting a dead stop to our impromptu singing.

“Open the gate, Jix!” I call out, pulling out the M1911A1 from my shoulder holster under the side-buttoned sheath dress and handing Frank my backup, the FP-45 Liberator that I kept in my clutch purse.

“What’s with this pea-shooter?” Frank asked as Jix hovered by what looked like a cement wall that melted away, revealing a rough-looking tunnel that was at least 200 years old.

“Lifted it off of a fallen freedom fighter back when I was in WAC.”

“An Army girl, huh?” He peered closer at my pistol. “Who’s Captain Barbara Rutledge?”

“Nobody to you.” I replied in clipped tones, nodding to Jix. “Light the way and stay high.”

The pixie complied, leading us in. I tugged at the tie around my neck, uncomfortably reminding me of the neckties I had to wear with the khaki uniform. 

“Sorry,” Frank muttered, “She must have been… special… to you.”

“Yeah, she died in ‘45, weeks before V-E day.” 

* * *

“Hold on, Carmilla,” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. “The Women’s Army Corps didn’t use regular Army rank.”

Carm nodded knowingly. “Yeah, but we used the same insignia. Barbara was the equivalent of a Captain, so we called her that among ourselves. Her official rank was ‘Junior Leader’, but we chipped in to have it engraved saying she was our Captain.”

JP smiled at that. “She was number 11, wasn’t she?”

Carmilla’s eyes teared up at that. “Yeah… we talked about a Boston Marriage back here in Yonkers, by the Hudson between Greenwich and Manhattan. Shot herself instead.” 

_ Carmilla’s ex committed suicide. _

“I’m so sorry,” Sadistic said, grief etched on her face, “how…”

“I found her; burned the note to protect my cover.” Her voice rasped as she took a deep breath to recompose herself. “Said that she couldn’t be soulmates to an immortal.”

Something about the words ‘immortal soulmate’ reminded me of what happened downstairs, making my blood run cold. 

“Mistress?” Carm’s eyes lifted at that. “Was Barbara shot in the right temple?”

Carmilla looked away, digging into her memory. “No, she was left…” anger flushed as she grimaced. “...handed.”

“So she was mur-” MacKenzie supplied, not helpfully.

“-I’d fucking kill her all over again, Carm.” I spat, remembering how Elladora forced Perry to kill herself. 

“Me too.” JP fumed, feeling helpless at consoling his owner.

“That makes three of my exes that crazy bitch killed.” Carmilla bitterly shook her head. 

“Well, she can’t harm us any more.” I offered, hoping it would cheer her up.

“What happened next, Aunt Carmilla?” Tara asked, putting a smile back on my Mistress’ face.

“We were exploring the tunnel and going towards the shrieks. It didn’t take long to realize that it was Gnomish.”

“As in, Gnomes?” Tara asked, eyes sparkling with delight.

“Yeah; the Brotherhood of Paracelsus had been experimenting with making earth elementals to deal with Herr Plague Doktor during the 1920’s. The Great Influenza Pandemic that ravaged the eastern seaboard back then? It was preternatural...”

* * *

It didn’t take long until the shrieking towards us; the stamping of feet grew louder as we stopped and I brought my gun up to bear.

“Claudia, will regular bullets work on things down here?” Frank asked nervously.

I took a long breath out, letting my vampire senses unfurl in the dim tunnel. “Silver coated lead should put down anything short of an Elder God.”

“..should?”

“I haven’t gone out of my way to test the theory.” I reply as I recognize the scent of gnomes, putting away my gun.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Frank asked, his pulse starting to race as diminutive figures start to be seen in the dim light.

“Gnomes. Harmless unless you threaten them.” As they came into the light, Frank chuckled at the sight of them. They all stood around two and a half feet tall, comprised of rocks that were alchemically bound into humanoid shapes, though with squashed faces and more gangly limbs than human children would have. 

“They are… cute.” The cluster of gnomes came to a stop in front of us, faces showing relief. 

“It’s the Karnstein!”

“Have you seen Hohenheim?”

“Gin-Lady!”

As each of the Gnomes tried to speak up, they began arguing amongst themselves in Gnomish on who should speak for the group. The cacophony grew loud in the enclosed space as I covered my ears, letting Jix silence the outbursts with a subsonic whistle.

“Okay, gnomes, what are you running from?”

“Krampus is in our tunnels, looking to eat us!” The tallest gnome replied, looking back over their shoulders. 

“Eat you? You’re all made out of magic and dirt.” I replied, remembering how simple-minded they could be.

Frank had put away the FP-45 as he leaned towards me. “Gin-Lady?”

I rolled my eyes. “Long story.” 

It took another second before it clicked. “Wait, Krampus? It’s April.”

“What’s a Krampus?” Frank asked.

“Imagine Santa, but rather than a bag full of presents to give to the good kids, it’s an empty sack that he fills with naughty children to take home and punish.”

“How has nobody reported children missing, then?”

“Like with Santa, he can only visit if you believe in him… also, he brings them back before anyone notices,” I say with a shrug, “magic.”

“Okay, so we’re hunting Krampus. What’s he look like?”

“Huge tongue, ugly, horns. Cloven hooves… and the giant sack. Oh, and a bundle of birch branches to beat kids with.” 

“But there are no kids down here… and like you said, not Christmas.”

I nodded, confused at that part. “Gnomes, stay here. Jix, let’s track him down and figure out why he’s not in Styria.” The pair of us began to make our way down the tunnels before a panicked Frank Sinatra chased after us.

“I’m coming too!” 

* * *

“So you actually hunted Krampus?” I interjected, nearly spilling my drink.

Carm shook her head at that. 

“Well, not in the way people hunt for animals for sport or for meat-” 

“-or you for their blood?” I quip playfully.

“Hey, I was a vampire!  A certain amount of murder just comes with the territory. We were tracking Krampus to figure out why he was in New York.”

“Dinner will be ready shortly, Ms. Karnstein.” Elliot announced, “so finish your story.”

* * *

We followed Jix in the tunnels, as his sense of smell was, admittedly,  _ much  _ better than mine and was able to trace back the path of the gnomes until the echo of gunshots startled us and we picked up our speed, racing our way towards Central Park.

“Jix, we’re getting close to the fae neutral zone… wanna call for backup?” I call out, hearing Frank begin to huff from exhaustion.

“Hand off that pea-shooter; I need  _ Carmilla. _ ”

I huffed at that, handing over the pistol to Frank along with my purse. “Try to keep up, Frank.”

Sinatra scoffed, pointing down at my feet.

“You’re in heels, lady-WHY ARE YOUR EYES SILVER?” 

“Keep up!” I called out as Jix and I went inhumanly fast towards the gunshots, the tunnel opening up into what had been expanded into a bootlegger’s storage area for illicit hooch. Tree roots seemed to invade one corner of the excavated room, where a dryad was hurling raw magic at the five human hunters.

The dryad was the same stature of a child; a dark green-skinned elvish looking creature no taller than a hobbit. Their hair was deep auburn and eyes were black as a starry night. 

“By Artemis, you shall not harm my tree!” It shouted, hurling the raw magic square into the chest of the tallest hunter, dissipating in a futile shower of sparks. 

There was a deep red glow from coming from a cold iron amulet hanging around the hunter’s neck, causing the Dryad to cower as they realized their magic was useless.

“Sorry kid, it’s just business.” The barrel of the shotgun was trained on the Dryad as Jix dusted red, diving headfirst at the barrel and shoving to point at the hunter to his right. The shotgun went off killing the other hunter instead as the sound echoed in the cramped area and disoriented me as I staggered to the ground to find my balance.

Before I could decide whether or not to transform into my leopard form, the hunter on the far left flank turned and blindly fired towards me, making me drop to the ground in shock as I was too slow to dodge the bullet.

The pain hit instantly as the hole torn in and out of my right shoulder bled freely, and I knew that it would less than a second before the hunter pulled the trigger again. I scrambled up to my feet, knocking his pistol away from me with my right hand, grappling and pulling him in as my fangs found the back of his neck and left hand jerked his head violently sideways, making the body go limp as I drank my fill.

The hunter in my arms had a dead man’s grip on his pistol as I aimed it towards the next closest hunter, using the body as a shield and letting the dead man’s fingers shoot and kill a third hunter. The human shield pistol ran out of bullets by the time I dropped him, staring down at the two remaining hunters who had their weapons pointed at the Dryad.

“You don’t have to die over some stupid tree, kid. Just need a cutting of the roots…”

The Dryad wheezed, dust and leaves flying out of its mouth as the thick vine armor squirmed and grew thicker, expelling the bullets lodged within and clattering uselessly onto the ground.

“Humans like you were never meant to wield this kind of power… and the Trees like to talk.” the Dryad replied, eyes flicking to the tunnel behind the tree roots.

The ground shook in time with the thunderous stomping that grew louder as the massive horned demon Krampus charged in, giant club in hand, making the hunters panic and turn their guns towards him.

“Oh, looks like you’ve been naughty boys.” I snark at the hunters as Krampus’ club was already mid-swing, knocking both hunters out and shoving them into his bag.

Frank finally caught up with us, lowering his weapon as his face went slack at peering at the horned goat-man covered in dark, thick fur.

“Krampus?” He asked, getting a curt nod from the demon.

“Claudia, are we just gonna let him take those guys?”

I shrug in reply. “Don’t see why not,” I turn towards Krampus, “Hey big guy, why did you come help? Aren’t you on vacation ‘til December?”

The sack on his back jostled around a bit, and we could barely hear any sounds come from it. Krampus elbowed it roughly, silencing the humans inside.

“Freelance.” he said with a deep chuckle.

* * *

Dinner was ready to be served, and I helped set the table with Elliot while Armitage uncorked the wine and presented it to Carmilla.

“Thank you, please serve the guests wine if they want it.”

“So Carm,” I asked as we all sat down started serving ourselves, family style, “you barely ran into Krampus and he just abducted the humans you were hunting? I expected more Krampus in the story!”

“Hey, back then, that was a major thing for me. I used to skedaddle when a Big Bad came my way; until I had to face off Sarah-Jane threatening you, I never would have thought about taking on anything like that.”

“And you took on your Mother as well as Z’Klatheggon before Lophii.”

“Yeah, well, I had Danny’s Summer Society as my ace in the hole for that. But that’s a story for another time.”

Sadistic Cupcake sipped the wine and smiled pleasantly. “So whatever happened to those two hunters? Or the Dryad?”

Tara chimed in. “And Jix the pixy!”

“The hunters are ‘fertilizing the ground’ somewhere, the Dryad is still protecting the Sacred Tree in Central Park, and Jix had a dozen children, who each had about a dozen children, and so on… and they still protect the plants and the tunnels in New York.” Carmilla replied, smiling sadly into her glass. “Jix and I decided it would be best if he pixed Frank’s memory, and I took him back to his apartment and set him down by the oven to let him think that the entire thing had been a dream. Which seemed to actually do the trick; pixie magic healed up his voice and Frank wasn’t suicidal anymore as he was able to sing at the Copa Club again. It would be a few more months before Jack approached him about moving out to Vegas and getting a second shot at stardom.”

Tara lifted her sparkling juice up for a toast. “To Jix and Krampus!” We all clinked our glasses at that, smiling at knowing the story behind Frank Sinatra’s depression and turnaround.

“Enough about the past, Carm;” Sadistic said with a grin, “I’m here because I’ve heard of this  _ amazing  _ convention we gotta go do in Dallas… interested?” MacKenzie looked at my Mistress and blushed scarlet.

“I think we can swing that, right Laura?” I bit my lip as her hand trailed up my thigh under the table.

“Of course; we can even hit up the sixth floor museum and learn about the JFK assassination.”

“And there’s a Six Flags!” Tara chimed in, making Elliot grin in excitement.

“Allright; looks like we’re in.” Carmilla said, as we all began to tuck into our Christmas dinner.


End file.
